Canvas
by PrinceJayden
Summary: Damian x Jack oneshot. Jack can't decide what is more beautiful- Damian's physical appearance or the blood that flows beneath his glass skin.


**Disclaimer, I do not own Beyblade metal.**

**Ako si Jayden and I am currently taking a break from sewing my cosplays, my horoscope is actually quite accurate today so I feel pretty good and in the mood for fanfiction.**

**Warnings:**

**Anyway, this contains dark themes and yaoi (Boy x Boy)**

**If that is not your cup of tea, please turn back and select a fanfic more suited for your tastes.**

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Damian let out sharp gasp as he felt the blade against his skin.

"You truly are beautiful." Jack purred, his olive green eyes never straying from his canvas-

Damian Hart.

With his porcelain skin, untouched by the harsh rays of light and eyes as wide as saucers. He was the perfect piece. And the knife that placed itself firmly in his hand was the brush. It would etch patterns into his skin and expose his true beauty. When those scars faded he could just create new ones. Ones that dug deeper and lasted longer but today, he lay down his 'brush' slipping it back into his grey coat pocket. He wouldn't clean it and he never did, as it was stained with paint. Damian's paint.

The burgundy haired boy's lips twisted into a smile, using his left hand to brush away the dark green bangs that blocked the young's sight. "I hate to mar skin as flawless as your own but I can't help myself..." He truly did mean what he said, and Damian understood like no one else. The experiments had changed him and whether it was for better or worse Jack was still Jack. He still worked on his art with a passion, he still wore that stupid makeup. He was still Jack. Damian winced as Jack began using his thumb to smear blood across the cut, the older bladder chuckled now glancing over the dark liquid that dyed his thumb print, unearthing the labyrinth of swirls and pathways. "Are you done?" The blue haired boy asked in a huffy manor. The two unlikely pair sat in what Jack liked to call his 'Studio' but what was really just his bedroom minus the bed and replaced with a couch. Hundreds of paintings, brushes, pens and pieces of paper lay either scattered or piled. It didn't seem to matter as it was all just a mesh of colours and fumes that made the bluenette light-headed and dizzy. Letting out somewhat of a hiss, he glanced down at the seeping wound and was tempted to treat it but knowing Jack, he'd most likely throw a fit saying "Every masterpiece of mine cannot be replicated, why not preserve it' Or "I worked hard on that, yet you dispose of it like trash?" something among those lines. And Damian learned that either respond with an apology or remain as silent as the dead of night. "Almost, be patient, my landscape." Damian blushed a deep shade of crimson. Somehow, even if it were just a comparison Jack could make it sound flattering. "Well hurry up, why don't you. Some of us have more interesting things to do as well as occupy our time." Jack just smiled, knowing full well that he had nothing to do and giving the change he would just stick up his noes and say 'I'm already here so I might as well'. He wouldn't admit it but he loved when he was a canvas for the redhead's quirk. He didn't enjoy pain but instead, the attention. The fact that Evil Befall's holder spent so much time just looking at him, tracing the dark blue veins and making small ticks like number-paint. Tears would threaten to fall but he would cease momentarily as the inflicter of his pain lightly press his lips to _'The Chosen One's' _temple, earning a faint whimper that Damain would deny later on. "It's such a vibrant, neon shade. Like emotion put into solid form." He spoke calmly but inside was driven positively insane with the idea of running a blade across the thin wrists of his teammate, the fantasy that such a dark colour could flood the floor. It was hard to say which was more beautiful- Damian's physical form or the blood that flowed? Blood pooled in a circle, spreading it's petals and blooming like a flower concealed beneath glass skin. "That's disgusting, the way you obsessed over my blood like it's alive or something."

The artist raised an eyebrow, hooking one digit underneath the black collar Damian wore around his neck. "It's the thing that keeps you alive, isn't it? That alone is a miracle in itself." He gave the leather binding a quick tug and pulled him closer. So close that his breath tickled his noes. "And that, is why I chose you as my canvas. You will become my masterpiece as I said, a miracle." Damian couldn't speak. His mouth was dry and tasted of pennies but at the same time his heart was burst from his chest still bloody and bleeding. They were but an inch apart now Jack's breathing slow and steady...

when he jerked back as if struck with an idea, this startled Damain as he didn't expect it.

Using his thumb Jack collected as much of his own dark blue lipstick as possible and smeared it across Damian's lower lip, earning a look of confusion.

"Simply wonderful." He spoke with a smile of fondness and lightly kissed Damain's forehead.

"My greatest master piece on the perfect canvas."

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